


Tests of Loyalty

by Acacieae



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Bittersweet, Goddess Worship, M/M, POV First Person, Rule of Two, Sith Lords, Sith philosophy, Unreliable Narrator, brief reference to underage sex, but it’s the logical endpoint let’s be honest, i’m sorry ahsoka you don’t deserve this, old/ugly men in a relationship deal with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 22:13:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7658809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acacieae/pseuds/Acacieae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“The relationship between Sith Master and Apprentice is both reciprocal and contingent,” I told him during one of our earliest lessons. “As the Master, I owe you my knowledge and strength. As the Apprentice, you owe me your loyalty and obedience. These obligations are to be put to the test periodically. Should one of us fall short, it is the responsibility of the other to destroy him. We either learn from these tests and grow stronger, or we die.” I paused to underscore the point. “One day, my young friend, you may even try to kill me.”</i>
</p><p>When the Rebel operative Ahsoka is captured, the Emperor uses the opportunity to test Vader's loyalty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tests of Loyalty

The Jedi used to say that to turn to the dark side was to be forever consumed by it. Give into temptation but once and it will dominate your destiny forevermore.

As with most things, the Jedi were wrong.

It is easy to use the Force to lash out in anger, but this is mere shadow of the true power of the dark side. The Sith understand that the dark side is first and foremost a choice, an absolute commitment to the implacable knowledge of the self. To achieve one’s full potential is to meet the cruel stare of the abyss and refuse to blink, to rise above petty sentiment and grapple it into submission, to stand firm in the fast-rising river of history and not be swept away. The turn to the dark side is a battle between a single being and the bend of the universe, and the battle begins anew each and every day.

I have never struggled with this precept. My apprentice, however, is different.

***

When sleep eludes me, it is my custom to walk the Palace botanical gardens. Tonight I am inspecting the chief gardener’s latest prized acquisition, a night-blooming a’moryhn flower from Mirial that is the first to have been successfully transplanted off-world. This one is still immature and already practically the size of a speeder, but even with its petals tightly sealed it is exquisite, shining with electric blue, magenta, and violet bioluminescence. A’moryhn are said to be semi-sentient and symbiotically linked to the Near-Humans of their native planet. I brush the back of a hand against the bud— A deeper flush of color. And was that movement? How remarkable! Perhaps it is Force-sensitive as well…

I do not even need to concentrate anymore to feel his approach from behind the stand of Alderaani evergreen. The shell of long years may make him seem cold, but I know better. Deep in the heart of him, he _burns_. A part of him will never escape the fires of Mustafar. He cannot hide the intensity of his presence from me.

He kneels before me and waits.

I finish my contemplation of the a’moryhn and turn to him. “Rise, Lord Vader,” I say.

He stands. The faint rustle of his cape on the flagstones as he does so signals his impatience.

“Come,” I say, “walk with me.”

We fall into step together.

“Have you something to report?” I ask finally. I already know he does.

“Anakin Skywalker’s apprentice has been apprehended during a routine sweep of the Lothal System.”

“That is excellent news. I trust you will not repeat the errors of Malachor.”

“I have learned my lesson, Master,” he recites, a lifetime of practiced contrition making the words automatic. He has other matters uppermost on his mind.

It is a mind I know as well as my own. I answer his unspoken question. “Yes, Grand Moff Tarkin has proven himself effective in this instance. He shall remain where he is for now.”

He nods, accepting both my recognition of his question and my judgment, and continues, “Very well. I leave for Lothal immediately to question the prisoner.”

Ah yes, the other missing Jedi. He wants to kill Kenobi. Someday we will find him where he is hiding, and he will—I have foreseen it. I only hope I am there to watch him exact his vengeance. Vader had been left to die in agony where I found him, his remaining limbs amputated and his strong, beautiful body burnt beyond all recognition. Kenobi, the man who had raised and trained him from the age of nine, couldn’t even be bothered to grant him a merciful death. And they say _the Sith_ are evil.

“No, have her brought here. I want to oversee her interrogation personally.”

“As you wish, my Master.” Vader bows and departs.

***

I was not lying when I promised him the ability to cheat death. However, such secrets can only be unlocked with the power of two Sith Lords, and he has not yet come into the fullness of the dark side. That will take time. He must be taught.

“The relationship between Sith Master and Apprentice is both reciprocal and contingent,” I told him during one of our earliest lessons. “As the Master, I owe you my knowledge and strength. As the Apprentice, you owe me your loyalty and obedience. These obligations are to be put to the test periodically. Should one of us fall short, it is the responsibility of the other to destroy him. We either learn from these tests and grow stronger, or we die.” I paused to underscore the point. “One day, my young friend, you may even try to kill me.”

His hurt at my words flared in my chest like it was my own.

“What is between us is different. I would never betray you. You are all I have left.”

 _I love you_.

An echo from another life.

“Perhaps.” I sighed. “We shall see.”

***

Tano has been strapped to the interrogation chair for hours. Vader is questioning her now. I observe them from my usual place in a corner of the room.

“Where are the remaining Jedi?”

“There are no Jedi. You killed them all.”

“Untrue. Where is Yoda?”

“I wouldn’t tell you if I knew! And how do you even know he’s still alive? He’d be, what, now? Nearly 900 years old?”

“Where are Kanan Jarrus and Ezra Bridger?”

She closes her eyes in remembered pain. “Missing. Presumed dead.”

“Where is Obi-Wan Kenobi?”

“He was _your_ Master, Anakin. Isn’t that a question you should be asking yoursel—”

He is choking her.

It is time to intercede, it seems.

“Lord Vader. Enough.”

He releases his hold and steps aside. She gasps and coughs. There are tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.

I allow myself to drift forward into her field of vision.

“Ahsoka Tano. Former Jedi Padawan who left the Order. Rebel operative codenamed ‘Fulcrum.’ Accused of espionage, attempted assassination, murder in the first degree, and treason against the Empire,” I recite. “How odd. I am having the strangest sensation of déjà vu. Something about Togruta females and charges of treason… Ah yes. Now I remember. Weren’t you lucky your Master never stopped believing in you and found the real culprit? Is this discourtesy how you would repay him now?”

Her expression registers her shock. “Who are—?”

Vader interrupts, “You are in the presence of the Galactic Emperor.”

“Palpatine…” she breathes.

“Your Majesty,” he corrects her.

“There is no need to stand on formality, my apprentice,” I say to him. I tilt my head up slightly, allowing her to glimpse my face beneath the hood of my cloak.  

Our gazes lock together. She recoils from what she sees so abruptly it is as if I had physically struck her. “Darth Sidious,” she spits the secret name like a curse. “So it was you all along.”

“It was me all along,” I see no reason not to agree.

“You did this to Anakin.”

“Anakin Skywalker made his own choice. He saw through the lies of the Jedi. As did you, I should think. However, if you are referring to the injuries which made this life support suit a requirement, that was Kenobi’s doing, not mine.”

“What—?”

“Show her,” I command.

Vader approaches the interrogation chair, holds one hand outspread, and presses his fingertips lightly to the side of her forehead. Her screams go on and on and on. I know what horrors she perceives. The plasma blade of a lightsaber cutting through thick muscle and bone, once, twice, three times in succession. Heat and rage. Flame ravaging flesh, the thick, cloying stench of one’s own body burning until the very ability to breathe has been seared away too. _Days_ of agony on the operating table, pain unending, the patient too unstable to risk administration of anesthesia. Marrow drilled and attached to metal, more pain, neural pathways rerouted, and even more pain. The mask descending in a red haze of artificial vision. Claustrophobia, losing control of oneself, panic, a body no longer one’s own. More machine than man now. A prisoner. Forever.

“Where is Kenobi, Ahsoka?” I ask gently, after she has regained a modicum of self-control.

“I don’t know. I wish I did.” It is the truth. “How could this happen?” Those tormented memories are still a living, breathing monster within her, and she is barely aware even of speaking aloud.

“It is not too late,” I reassure her in my most soothing tone of voice. “There is time to make amends.”

“What do you mean…?” she whispers.

“Join us.”

Although her expression is twisted and tightly drawn, her eyes snap back into sudden sharp focus. “I’ll never become a Sith!” she hisses.

“I already have an apprentice, my dear.” I say. “Still. You cared for your Master once, didn’t you? No, don’t speak. I know you did; I can feel it. What if he were to become your Master again?”

“He is gone. You have shown me his death.”

“Only from a certain point of view. Pledge yourself to the Empire, and your crimes will be forgiven.”

“And?” she scoffs.

“And you will have security, dignity, and a renewed sense of purpose. All I ask is that you follow his lead and obey him in all things. As you once did. It should not be difficult.”

Vader still stands next to the interrogation chair, but now his body is angled slightly in her direction. He had not expected me to show his former Padawan mercy.

She takes no notice of him. Her attention is fixed on me.

“You would make me an Inquisitor.”

“Only if you wish it. Truth be told, their utility is coming to a swift end. Perhaps you would like to lead armies into battle again? Command of a fleet of starships? Or would you prefer a teaching position in the Imperial Academy? What about the governance of a planetary system? Shili, for example, your homeworld. It could be arranged. Just tell me what you want. The choice is yours.”

“And the price is my freedom.” It is not a question. I ignore it.

“There are things about your former Master you never knew. He took a wife when he himself was still a Padawan. They were expecting a child. He would have been expelled from the Order had they discovered his secret. Disgraced. He came to me because he needed protection for the ones he loved. Protection the Jedi would not provide. He would have done anything for his family.”

She is stunned. Now she turns to Vader. “Is it true?”

“Yes,” he says.

“They failed you. _We_ failed you.”

“Yes.”

Her eyes drift shut. She is silent for a very, very long time.

“I think I understand now. Anakin, I hope that one day you will find it in yourself to forgive,” she says at last, voice heavy with sorrow. “No, I will not join you, Your Majesty. Never. I would rather die.”

Her resolve is a brilliant clarion call through the Force. There will be no dissuading her.

“A pity it has to come to this.” I shake my head regretfully. “Lord Vader, kill her.”

Vader makes no sign of acknowledgment. He simply ignites his lightsaber behind her and runs her through the heart.

She is dead.

“You did well.” I reach out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Our thoughts mingle as he leans into my touch.

He has passed the test. My Dark Lord of the Sith remains loyal.

***

I was born on a planet with water in its heart.

Understandably, the native primitives have always revered the sea and its bounty.

The humans, though, like to say that they are the children of the moon. That’s a pretty little lie, of course. History teaches us that the Naboo are descended from the first wave of human colonists to leave Coruscant, system-hopping their merry way across the galaxy using first-generation hyperdrive technology. These early humans associated themselves with the moon in order to assert their superiority over the Gungans—the moon’s gravity rules the sea, after all.

Nevertheless.

Water is fluid and changeable and impossible to grasp, and the water is within us as well. As children we are taught to look ever to Shiraya to bring order to the chaos of our hearts, just as She governs the daily rising and falling of the tides that are the very pulse of the planet. All the sacraments of our lives are conducted beneath Her watchful eye: Baptisms, birthdays, and funerals. Penance and the Anointment of the Sick. Coronations. Marriages.

Old contacts in the Nubian civil service duly informed me of their wedding. Vows taken at sunset, consummation at moonrise. A full moon—very auspicious. Padmé Amidala was always appropriately traditional. Did she explain the significance of their devotions? No, it would be better to ask if her husband was paying any attention when she did.

On warm nights, when the moon is full, lovers bed down outdoors so that they may know each other whilst fully bathed in holy light. Shiraya grants them Her benediction and synchronizes the tides within them. Sometimes you can hear their cries of ecstasy; the poets call it “moonsong.”

Anakin was barely old enough for wet pleasure when I took his virginity. Back then, I was playing a politician of unimpeachable morality; no one could be allowed to suspect the slightest indiscretion. Our liaison had to be conducted in absolute darkness, far removed from the cool, soothing lights of the night sky. The Goddess never bore witness to the passion of our joining. _Only I_ saw him writhe, weep, and beg for more as I held his body beneath mine. When he cried out at the end, _only I_ was there to hear it, and there has never been a sweeter sound.

***

The soft, verdant glow of the Sanctuary Moon fills the viewport from my private quarters, but I am, for the moment, blind to it. I am focused inwards, gathering to me that within which allows me to touch the Force.

It is no use. I can no longer see the shape of the future. There will be a battle soon, and the Rebels will not anticipate our strategy—or our fully-operational battle station—but of the outcome…nothing. A blank.

It has been this way for several cycles now. Although I do not appear to be otherwise diminished, my powers of foresight have fled. What could account for it? Has the Force become unbalanced? Is someone or something blocking my vision? Suddenly, I am uncomfortably reminded of the Jedi in the last days of the Republic, ignorant of their own impending doom and unable to see any destiny beyond that which they did not understand—

A discreet chime sounds.

Vader joins me at the viewport. Immediately, I can feel his nervousness, his impatience; anxiety rolls off of him in hot, dark waves. Oh, how he hates being made to wait idly by for something to happen! He dearly wishes he could fight. Or flee this place. And yet still he comes to me as he has always done, to seek the comfort of the only one left to provide it to him.

“It was simply not to be, my old friend,” I begin without preamble before he has the chance to prostrate himself, replying to the thoughts he would not have chosen to voice aloud. “I am sorry. This time it will be different.”

“She meant nothing.”

He knows I can feel the lie. I do not bother to challenge him on it.

“And if he cannot be turned?” he asks boldly, undeterred.

“I trust that you will do what must be done,” I say.

He makes a choking noise.

“But it won’t come to that,” I continue smoothly. “We will do it together. You will have your son.”

Perhaps I should not be indulging him with such promises. Vader already offered to complete young Skywalker’s training in the use of the Force and promised him rule of the Empire at his side. He even promised _my_ destruction, naturally, and the boy ignored a key objective of his precious Rebel Alliance because joining his father was literally a fate worse than death. My apprentice never did have any talent for sensitive negotiations.

Ah well. There is no real cause for concern. In the end, this is just another test.

He does not see it that way. I have, apparently, told him exactly what he wants to hear. He is reassured. Fear forgotten, he is radiant with a wild gentleness and fierce joy. “Master,” he murmurs, “my Master,” his mechanized voice a low rumble of intimacy. A faraway but never-forgotten hunger is unfurling in his belly; I can feel it too. He falls to his knees before me, parting and lifting my robes. My tired, withered flesh gives him pause; we’ve been too long in the dark. He is so afraid to touch, so terrified I will push him away. Desire threatens to immolate him. “Please. Let me,” he pleads. His words are the barest of whispers, the merest puff of artificial aspiration against bare skin. When I look down, the light of the stars shimmers on the crown of his polished helmet.

_Good Goddess, Anakin, slow down—! I’m not a young man anymore—_

_No, no, oh please, please, sir, let me let me let me…_

I nod.

The moon is watching. He would not understand why it matters, and I no longer care.

 

END

**Author's Note:**

> (1) The tone and themes of this story owe a huge debt to _Lords of the Sith_ by Paul S. Kemp. What an amazing Star Wars novel!
> 
> (2) Naboo has a moon goddess named [Shiraya](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Shiraya/Legends). The rest of what has been written here about her comes straight from my head.
> 
> (3) Hey, did anyone notice the five elements and yin-yang symbolism? :-)
> 
> (4) I've always wondered why a man as powerful as Palpatine obviously was didn't see his end coming in _Return of the Jedi_. Luke notes that overconfidence was his weakness, but what precisely formed the *basis* of that overconfidence and (misplaced) trust in Vader? This story is my creative answer to that question.
> 
> (5) This story is self-contained but may be read alongside “[A Seduction](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7604662)” and “[That Sleep of Death, What Dreams May Come](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7731400).” Chapter 4 of “Sleep of Death” includes a direct, and very sexually-explicit, continuation of the events described. However, your basic understanding and enjoyment (or lack thereof) of any of these stories shouldn’t be affected by not having read any of the others. For convenience, I have created an AO3 collection for all of these loosely interconnected stories [here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Star_Wars_Undiscovered_Countries).


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